


Don't Believe Everything You See

by itsjustmeowrooh



Category: PewDiePie - Fandom, Septiplier (NOT ROMANTIC), jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 23:52:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12353124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsjustmeowrooh/pseuds/itsjustmeowrooh
Summary: “Don't be so quick to believe what you're told; lies spread quicker than the truth.”The school goes into lock-down as a pressing threat enters the campus. Jack, still sauntering through the hallways, hears the menacing din of a firearm and finds himself in a vital rush. Though he knows the procedure: move swiftly, find a class that is open, get inside, and stay as far away from the windows and doors as possible, little did he know that these next five minutes would change his life forever.





	1. Business - Quote, Unquote

**Author's Note:**

> (My works) Hope you enjoy! I'll try to upload every Friday, but if something comes up, I'll let you know! Also, I'm new to this site, so I don't understand how the indentations work, how to load different fonts, or how to load typographical emphasis, but I'm learning, so please, bear with me.  
> You can also find me on Tumblr (x-x-owrooh-septiplier-x-x), Quotev (itsjustmeowrooh), and Wattpad (itsjustmeowrooh).  
> I'm a work in progress, feel free to leave constructional criticism, but please don't be rude.

I sat in the dark corner of the room I was being held in, the sound of my heart pounding the only thing I could hear. It’s been a week and a half. I think. I may be wrong… It’s kind of hard to tell how many days have passed without a clock or a window.  
The silence pierced my ears, but there was nothing I could do to fix it. For once, I was useless. I couldn’t do anything. And I despised the feeling. I then heard footsteps getting louder and louder as they made their way towards my room.  
The door creaked open and there before me stood my kidnapper; the man who took my life away, the man I thought I could trust… the man I once called my best friend; Mark Fischbach. Light flooded into the room and I winced at its brightness, trying - somehow - to mentally push it back out the way it had come. The door shut again and Mark knelt down beside me. He couldn’t see my face in the darkness but I doubt he needed to to know that I despised him for what he had done. He stayed quiet for a few moments, then cleared his throat and dropped something into my lap. I looked down, curious as to what it was but I couldn’t see it anyway so what was the point? It felt soft and somewhat fluffy… but what was it?  
“You need to eat,” He spoke softly. Oh, okay, so some type of food. Most likely bread. I pinched my mouth into a tight line and kept quiet. He sighed a few seconds later. “Jack, I’m sorry,” he whispered. Tears stung my eyes and threatened to spill but I held them back. I couldn’t show my pain to him.  
“If you don’t eat, you’re gonna die.” I scoffed at this, then turned my head in his general direction, still unsure of where exactly he was.  
“What do you care? Isn’t that your plan anyway?” I replied and he sighed again.  
“I’m not going to hurt you.” he muttered, barely above a whisper. It’s a bit too late for that, Mark… I thought silently.  
“Then who is?” He fell completely silent, then stood up again. Light flooded back into the room only to be quickly drowned out by darkness once more. He was gone.  
I let out a shaky breath that I had been holding in for what felt like ages and let my head fall back against the wall behind me. I picked up the bread that was sitting on my thigh and smelled it. Did you drug this too, Mark? I wondered as I poked at it. There were no soggy areas on the fluffy surface and it didn’t smell odd or off in anyway, so I figured it was safe. I tore a piece of the bread off and pushed it through my lips, thankful to finally have something to eat. Poisoned or not, I probably still would have ended up eating it, but I just wanted to be on the safe side of things. Erh, well… safer side.  
The bread was gone in less than a minute, but my stomach still growled. My throat was dry from eating the bread, and every time I swallowed it felt like I was swallowing razor blades; popping them in like Skittles - one, two, three, etc. I needed water. Or at least something to drink.

An hour - I think - had gone by when I was finally greeted by light once more. The door opened and immediately, a feeling of unease raced throughout my entire body. I felt unsafe. I instantly realized that Mark was not the man who had just stepped into the room. Even though Mark betrayed me in every way humanly possible, then stabbed a knife directly through my back and twisted it fully around, I didn’t feel unsafe around him. I know, funny, right? I don’t feel scared or threatened by the man who held a gun to my head, stuffed me into the back of a car with some stranger, and then drugged me to get me to sleep; no, I feel totally safe around that guy. Yet this man whom I’ve only caught glimpses of sent shivers down my spine, and made my heart skip a number of beats out of complete and utter fear.  
The room stayed silent for a moment or two… then he spoke.  
“I see you’ve awakened.” His voice was somewhat pitched as if he were a friend on the street glad to see me. “Finally.” He muttered. He reached to the right - his right, not mine - and retrieved a small pile of clothing, tossing it in my direction. The clothes I was currently in were completely wrinkled, filthy, and soaked in sweat.  
“Get dressed, we have business to take care of.” And with that, the door slammed shut again. The room was dark, so dark, in fact, that I couldn’t see the clothes I was just given. I stood up and, with trembling hands, tried to figure out which was the shirt, which were the pants, or if it was all just one piece.  
After a few moments of fumbling around in the dark, I finally realized which one was which, and was actually able to dress myself. I took a few steps forward, and felt around for the door, then knocked on the cold metal.  
“I’m going to open this door,” Mark began. “Jack, make it easy on yourself. Don’t. Run. Away. Please…” The last word he spoke lingered in the air a few seconds longer. What would they do if I bolted? I wondered as the door creaked open. I stepped out into the middle of a large corridor and dozens upon dozens of doors were lined up side by side. I wondered how many of them led to more rooms with more unlucky prisoners who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.  
I was pushed forward and we began making our way down the hall. I glanced back at Mark, and saw an apologetic look in his eyes. He gripped onto his gun like it was the only thing that could determine whether he lived or died. Technically, it was. The man - let’s call him Noname for now - turned to look at me. He smiled in a way that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. He was taller than me by quite a bit so I probably wouldn’t have much luck when it came to fighting back. He didn’t look too buff, though. Made me wonder why Mark didn’t fight back. Mark was clearly more buff than Noname and would probably be able to take him down regardless of his height. So why didn’t he? Why doesn’t he? Noname’s hair was a very light brown, almost blonde and he had a moustache of the same shade that curled over his upper lip. He had a light stubble but it was barely noticeable.  
The shrill yelp of a man in pain pulled me back to reality and I jumped, startled. Thousands of questions started swarming my mind. What are they gonna do to me? What happened to that man? Why did he scream? Are there more kidnappers? How many prisoners are here besides myself? Why am I here?  
Noname stopped to pull a ring of keys from his pocket. He unlocked the door we were stopped in front of and pushed it open. I gulped at the sight. In the center of the room were two tables; one filled with torture tools and the other - presumably for the prisoners - with locks and straps on either side. This room had no ceiling, just a sunroof. Noname turned back to me and smiled yet again. He extended his arm out into the room.  
“After you.” His voice was too cheery for the person he was. I gulped and tried to step back but Mark was right behind me, pushing me forward yet again.  
“No!” I shouted, planting my feet into the ground and reaching out to grip onto the doorframe. Noname let out a growl of annoyance and pushed my arms down by my sides. “No! Let go of me you-” I was pushed to the floor and suddenly found myself gasping for air. I was pushed directly down onto my back and it knocked the wind out of me. I was struggling to breathe when Noname and Mark grabbed my arms, dragging me to the center of the room.  
I was thrown back onto the scorching hot metal of the torture table and they both began strapping me to it. I was completely tied down. I couldn’t move any part of my body no matter how hard I tried. Again, I was completely, and stupidly useless.  
I finally regained my composure after what felt like ages, but I should have just stopped breathing altogether. I was 100% sure that dying then would have be so much better than what they were going to do to me on this table. Just from the door I had seen a blowtorch, a couple knives, a gun or two, and some type of liquid in a bottle. Either they were going to kill me now or I’d die recovering.  
Noname leaned down to look me in the eyes, then smiled that same fucking smile.  
“Mark,” he began, tilting his head to the side in the slightest way. “Be a dear, would you?” He motioned to the tools with a jerk of his head. A terrified gasp escaped Mark’s lips and he froze in his place, unable to speak.  
“No, I-I-I won’t… I won’t do it.” He gulped. “Sir.” Noname glanced up at him and scoffed.  
“Alright, fine.” He picked up a syringe and stabbed it into my arm. This liquid - whatever it was - that this monster had just injected into my veins made all the muscles in my body tense up. My skin seemed to grow tight around the needle and Noname almost couldn’t remove it from my forearm. I suddenly started feeling like I was slowly getting the life sucked out from my body. My breathing fell short and my heart started pounding in my ears. What the fuck is this stuff?! I screamed in pain, but nothing settled. In fact, the pain grew stronger. I then felt a burning sensation on the inside of my right wrist and heard a slight sizzling noise. When I dropped my eyes to find the source of both the pain and the sizzling, I found Noname pressing a red-hot branding iron on my wrist. When he pulled it back, a small “F” was in its place.  
“Beautiful!” He laughed a menacing laugh. I glared at him but when I opened my mouth to speak, all that came out was a moan of agony. My eyes squeezed shut and I balled my hands into fists in attempts to rid the pain, but to no avail. “You’re mine now.”  
“Fuckin’ hell!” I shouted but that just made him laugh again. He popped the cap off the bottle and poured it right over the burn. Since the burn was still fresh, the wound stung like a bitch, and another scream found an escape through my parted lips. He set the bottle back down and laughed sharply, clapping his hands a few times.  
“Man, you’re handling this pretty well compared to the others!”  
The others? I wondered silently between groans. So there are other prisoners… how many?  
“Mr. Mark over here took it like a bitch, but he eventually learned his lesson. His mother, however-”  
Wait, his mother? She’s here?  
“Yikes. I was about ready to stab her by the time she was through.” He laughed again and turned his back on me to look over his tools. I looked up at Mark and he took a deep, quivering breath. He was on the verge of tears and didn’t seem like he wanted to hide it. Suddenly, a walkie-talkie beeped on the table with the tools on it. Noname very quickly picked it up, adjusted the knob, then fell silent to listen.  
“Felix, it’s Amy. We’ve got another one down in C7.” A woman’s voice stated.  
“Goddammit… how long? Can you tell?” His accent really showed through at this moment. He was Swedish, if I’m not mistaken.  
“Not sure. I was just finishing up in B10 when I heard a scream. Came running down as soon as I could, Sir. I opened the door and he came running out, then collapsed a few steps down the hall. He was out by the time I got there.” Felix sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it out, shaking his head a little bit. He then chucked the branding iron clear across the room, making Mark jump slightly. After Felix had a moment or two to regain himself, he spoke into the walkie-talkie again.  
“You need me to come by?” Felix asked.  
“If you have the time, Sir, yes.” He nodded to himself and glared back at me. I thought he was gonna drive a knife directly through my chest with the way he was glared down at me.  
“I’m on my way.” He turned off the walkie-talkie and dropped it down on the table. “Mark, get him to The Rink. Wade should be down there to take him after that.”  
“Yes, Sir.” He waited until Felix was out of the room to start uncuffing me. “Are you okay?”  
“Your mother’s here?” I asked, ignoring his question. His eyes fell sad - well… sadder - and he sighed, nodding.  
“Yes, she’s here. So is Thomas.” He spoke quietly as if he were afraid of Felix hearing him and coming back. “Jack, are you okay? Are you feeling dizzy? Sick to your stomach?” He asked and I shook my head in response.  
“I’m a bit winded, but I think I’ll be fine.” Mark nodded and helped me sit up.  
“Good. There are two ways people react to the serum after it’s kicked in. The muscles tensing is natural, it happens with everyone. But certain people can’t handle it in large amounts. You seem to be one of the lucky few.”  
“So, what, feelin’ dizzy and/or sick to your stomach means… death?” I asked and he nodded to confirm.  
“Basically.” He grabbed my arms to help me stand but as soon as I was up, I fell back down again. My muscles were sore and it hurt to move. “That’s natural too, you’re fine.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me back to my feet.  
“So, what, is this like Deadpool or somethin’?” I asked and Mark scoffed a bit, then shook his head.  
“Well, no. You’re not going mutant.”  
“Then what is happenin’? Why am I here?” He looked sorry. He looked at me for a long time before finally speaking up again.  
“That information is classified.” He didn’t said a word to me after that.


	2. The Rink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don't be so quick to believe what you're told; lies spread quicker than the truth.”  
> The school goes into lock-down as a pressing threat enters the campus. Jack, still sauntering through the hallways, hears the menacing din of a firearm and finds himself in a vital rush. Though he knows the procedure: move swiftly, find a class that is open, get inside, and stay as far away from the windows and doors as possible, little did he know that these next five minutes would change his life forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (My works) Hope you enjoy! I'll try to upload every Friday, but if something comes up, I'll let you know! Also, I'm new to this site, so I don't understand how the indentations work, how to load different fonts, or how to load typographical emphasis, but I'm learning, so please, bear with me.  
> You can also find me on Tumblr (x-x-owrooh-septiplier-x-x), Quotev (itsjustmeowrooh), and Wattpad (itsjustmeowrooh).  
> I'm a work in progress, feel free to leave constructional criticism, but please don't be rude.

“Well, well, well,” A man by the name of Wade laughed. “Another recruit? Excellent.” He answered. The Rink was a large, circular room, much like the room I had just come from, but with a rather large water tank in the center of it, another torture table, an IV stand, a bag of various sizes of needles, handcuffs with and ring of keys, another blowtorch, and a handgun. The only difference was a ceiling in this room.

Thank God. Mark closed the door behind him and led me into the room, right to where Wade was standing. “Back up, back up,” he said, motioning me to move back. I did as he instructed, but he grumbled in annoyance as I did.

“Not you.” He slammed his hands down on my shoulders to keep me still and shoved Mark back a ways. He then started circling me, muttering things under his breath, scoffing and shaking his head at a few things he saw but didn’t like, humming and nodding at the few things he did like, creeping me out even more. He then turned away, walking towards a gigantic bookshelf that somehow slipped my eye when we walked in and began rustling through the files living in the compartments. 

“Why him, Felix?” He muttered, almost silently. He then groaned and smacked the side of the bookshelf. He reached for a shelf a little higher up and started climbing it like it was a ladder. He fished out a folder with a bunch of papers oozing from the side, then dropped to the floor.

“Ah-hah!” he exclaimed, then paused for a moment. His eyebrows were scrunched together, and he pointed a finger at me. “Jack, is it?” I gulped but didn’t move, didn’t speak. Why was my question, however. I wasn’t frightened, at least, I didn’t feel frightened, so why couldn’t I say anything?

“Yes, Sir,” Mark replied for me. This Wade guy was instantly furious. His eyes narrowed and fired bullet after bullet into my soul. It was a glare so cold it could probably freeze over hell itself. I shivered. He quickly scoffed, rolled his eyes, then dropped the folder onto the floor with a rather loud - plop! 

“Did Felix leave you with any instructions, Mark?” he asked, turning to face his tools, examining them as if it were the toughest decision he’d ever been forced to make.

“No, Sir; he only said that you’d be down here to take him.” Another scoff. 

“Alright.” He picked up a rubber glove and slapped it over his hand. “Let’s get this over with.” I heard footsteps getting softer and softer as they walked further away from me, and I turned around, watching as Mark left the room, suddenly longing for him to come back. Although I watched him walk towards the door, I was still startled by the sound of it slamming behind him. 

I turned back around to find Wade standing just centimeters away from me. He grabbed onto my wrist, the one housing my burn, and I yelped out in pain. I started screaming, shouting, squirming, pulling, anything I could to shake free from his grasp, but I was still incredibly weak from the serum. He then twisted my arm around and leaned in way too close for comfort.

“I would not suggest struggling, there’s no use. No one is going to help you, and no one is going to keep me from doing my job. So, let it go.” he scowled. 

He turned and began leading me up a very small flight of stairs that led to the top of the giant water tank, then pressed a button on a panel, the metal cover sliding open, producing a harsh mechanical sound. Without any warning, he shoved me and I fell into the tank with a splash. By the time I gained control over myself again and tried swimming to the top for air, the tank was already closed off, and Wade was making his way back down the steps. I began to panic, knowing that I would soon run out of air, but Wade wouldn’t be paying enough attention to me to open the top.

Why go through all the trouble of keepin’ someone alive when you’re just going to leave them to drown anyway? The question swam throughout my mind like a fish in a bowl. Or in this case, a boy in a tank.

My hands began trembling. The water was rather warm but it felt like I was freezing. It felt as if giant ice blocks were lodged in my throat and I was trying to swallow them whole. 

Gunshots, screaming, and police sirens began echoing in my mind, just another friendly reminder that I would never get my old life back. I was permanently screwed, and the thought alone made me want to vomit. The reminders were slowly pushed out of my mind and replaced with high pitched ringing. I desperately needed air, but there was none to be found in this damned glass tank. I was doomed to death, and I hadn’t even done anything wrong.

I couldn’t hold it any longer. I sucked in a deep breath, and my eyes began to sting from the pressure. I swear my life flashed before my eyes, but that one day - that one fucking day replayed over and over as if it were on a broken record. 

“...I’m sorry, Jack… I’m sorry.” Mark’s voice hushed. Rewind. 

“...get to class… lock the doors... stay out of sight.” The procedure was engraved into the back of my skull. It’s not hard, it’s not fucking hard! 

“- chck-chck...bang! -” Glass shatters. We step over it. It crunches under our feet, but one shard stabs the bottom of my shoe. Every step I take is filled with pain. “...hello?... police?... there’s been a kidnapping at the high school!”

Miss Kyler never liked me. The feeling was always mutual, but I’d give anything just to see her now... to finally see a familiar face, and not have the overwhelming urge to punch them in the throat; to yell at them for seizing my life away.

It felt as if my chest was caving in on me. It takes four minutes to drown someone. Just four is all it takes. It felt like a goddamn century had already gone by.

I sucked in another heap of water, but what happened next was beyond words. The smallest bit of oxygen found its way to my lungs. The next breath I took, more oxygen. Not nearly enough to be comfortable, but enough to keep me at least somewhat alive. Each breath became a tiny bit easier. Call me crazy, but I swear to God, I’m breathing this damn water. Breathing it!

That or I’m already dead, and I just haven’t fully disconnected from my body yet. No, I’m definitely still alive. If I were dead, it wouldn’t hurt this much. Then - very faint and very muffled - I heard the top cover slide open, but I didn’t have nearly the right amount of energy to swim to it. I reached up to grab onto the rim, then pulled myself up and out of the water. As soon as I was out, I began coughing up the liquid trapped in my lungs. I tried to hold myself up on the side of the tank but ended up falling over it completely, landing hard on the cold linoleum. 

I coughed, coughed, coughed, and coughed some more. The water, along with a little bit of bile, pooled in a puddle underneath me. Gross. The ice in my throat seemed to have melted away, but my hearing was still a little muffled, and my head throbbed. I was still gasping for air when Wade grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. He nearly dragged me to the table, then picked up a needle that he seemed to have been preparing while I was in the water. 

“Fight back, and I’ll plant a bullet in your skull, yea?” he said, pinching the skin at the base of my neck and stabbing the needle through it without any warning. I gasped at the sudden pain, but I didn’t fight back. Not like I could even if I wanted to. 

After Wade set the needle back down on the table, he pushed me down by my shoulders so that I was laying down, then turned back to his table of tools. There were no straps on this one, but I knew that if I struggled, I’d be in a lot more pain at the end of the day than I would be from anything else he was about to do to me. So, I stayed still, my breaths forcing my chest to heave up and down, and my heart making my entire body pulsate. I heard the click and scream of the blowtorch as Wade began heating up the branding iron. 

“Jesus Christ, not this shit again,” I muttered, a whine of agony escaping my lips. Wade just scoffed, shrugging. “What do you guys even want with me, anyway?” Silence was his response. When the blow torch was turned off, my body tensed up.

“Hold still, or you’ll make it worse,” he said as he gripped my forearm, pressing the scorching metal to my skin. I shouted in pain as the sizzling died down to nothing, and my screams, heavy breathing, and his maniacal laughter filled the air surrounding us. I must admit, it hurt like hell, but not nearly as much as Felix’s had. Wade didn’t pour rubbing alcohol over this one. 

He dropped the rod back onto the table beside him, then pulled me to my feet, kicking my legs out from underneath me, sending me collapsing onto the floor, but I felt no urge to move. I felt dizzy and sick to my stomach, and I wished that the serum would fail to go through properly, leaving Wade with no other choice but to shoot me, ending my misery altogether. But, I knew I wouldn’t get that lucky. 

Then, very suddenly, a jolt of energy shot throughout my entire body, sending me into a spaz. It sounded like a cell phone buzzer but felt like I was being tased from the inside-out.

“Yay, it works!” Wade laughed, clapping his hands a few times. I sat up and rubbed my hand over the back of my neck where the needle had been inserted, wincing at the pain.

“What the fuck was that?” I asked, my voice breaking. He laughed and began pulling off his gloves, tossing them into a trash bin by his desk.

“You ever barked into a shock collar before?” he questioned. 

Shock collar? What does that have to do with… My thoughts stopped as if I had just pressed the “PAUSE” button on a remote control. He just chipped me with a fuckin’ shocker, didn’t he? 

“Did you just chip me?” I questioned, my voice raising ever so slightly. I couldn’t tell if I was scared, or pissed, or both, but the feeling of whatever it was made me furious. He leaned against his desk and started flipping through the pages in my folder. Erh… file?

“Y’know, you’re a pretty smart kid.” he said, a tone of admiration in his voice. 

Oh, how dare you. “‘T’sucks, you would’ve gone far.” I threw myself at him, but he was too quick for me. He dodged my attack and pressed his thumb to the button controlling my chip. My back arched as I fell to the floor. The pain was unbearable. Again, it was like someone was tasing me from the inside-out. I groaned as he pulled me towards the door as if I were a corpse he desperately needed to get rid of. He kicked it open, shoved me out into the corridor, then slammed the door behind me. I fell like a weight to the ground, and Mark rushed to help me up.

“Are you okay?” he asked, kneeling down beside me, taking my arm in his hand. I shrugged away from his grasp and pushed myself up and off the ground, losing my balance as I stood.  
“Don’t you fuckin’ touch me!” I shouted. He took a step forward, so I responded by taking a step back.

“Jack, it’s okay. You need to calm down before you make things worse, you understand me?”

“Fuck you!” I shouted, turning and running in the opposite direction. Did I really think I had a chance at escaping this hell hole? No. Not even a slim chance. I just needed to get away from him.  
I turned the corner but didn’t make it very far before I collapsed again. The pain of the shock made my muscles tense, my head spin, my ears ring, and my bones ache.  
Would they ever stop the fuckin’ shockin’? No matter how hard I tried to push the pain away, it wouldn’t budge. So, I gave up, falling into a motionless heap on the floor beneath me. I was one of several mice running throughout an entire house of cats - smaller to anyone and anything. Yes, I was fast, but they were always faster. And it didn’t matter how many times I ran, they would always catch me in the end. I was stuck in a constant loop of predator versus prey, and I only had two options; give up, or die trying.

I heard but chose not to see. Footsteps began getting louder and louder as they made their way towards my direction. This person didn’t seem to be in a hurry so I crossed Mark off as a possibility. Wade was still in The Rink, so I figured it had to be Felix. 

“Jack, are you runnin’ from us already?” he began. The voice definitely belonged to Felix. It was strong, slightly accented, and psychotic. He grabbed a tuft of my hair in his fist and pulled just the upper half of my body up off the ground. “I was just about to let you off easy, too.”

“Let me go, you bastard.” My sentence started off strong - almost fierce, and unafraid - but then died out to nothing but a weak, terrified plea. 

“Ooh,” he paused to suck in a sharp breath of air, click his tongue. “Not gonna happen.” He pulled me up and dragged me along. I was struggling to get loose but found myself useless against his powerful grip.  
I looked back over my shoulder and saw Mark slowly beginning to trud behind, gun in hand, his gaze held to the ground. He hadn't even attempted to come to my aide. My best friend for two years did nothing while I stared directly in the face of danger. He said he'd never let anyone hurt me, yet did nothing when the one person who could did. 

We then turned the corner, and he disappeared behind the wall. The walk to our next destination was long and tiresome, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of complete and utter betrayal from my mind.


	3. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don't be so quick to believe what you're told; lies spread quicker than the truth.”  
> The school goes into lock-down as a pressing threat enters the campus. Jack, still sauntering through the hallways, hears the menacing din of a firearm and finds himself in a vital rush. Though he knows the procedure: move swiftly, find a class that is open, get inside, and stay as far away from the windows and doors as possible, little did he know that these next five minutes would change his life forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (My works) Hope you enjoy! I'll try to upload every Friday, but if something comes up, I'll let you know! Also, I'm new to this site, so I don't understand how the indentations work, how to load different fonts, or how to load typographical emphasis, but I'm learning, so please, bear with me.  
> You can also find me on Tumblr (x-x-owrooh-septiplier-x-x), Quotev (itsjustmeowrooh), and Wattpad (itsjustmeowrooh).  
> I'm a work in progress, feel free to leave constructional criticism, but please don't be rude.  
> Sorry for such a late upload! I got pretty busy today, things came up and I only just made it back home to my computer, but here's chapter three! Enjoy!

After hours of straight torture, I was thrown back into my cell for the night. I never thought I’d miss it so badly. I huddled up in my corner and pulled my knees up to my chest, burying my arms in between. The feeling of warmth on my cold, bruised and bloodied arms felt rather nice after the long day. I rested my head back on the walls, and let out a deep sigh. 

My hair was still rather damp from the day’s harsh events, and it clung to the side of my face where a blade had been taken, marking its path and scarring. I tried brushing the few strands out and away, but my fingers grazed over the fresh open wound. I winced. And to think, this was just day one. 

Day one out of how many? I silently wondered. But, you know, to look on the bright side… at least I’m still alive. I’d been pushed, poked, and prodded throughout the hours of the day, only to have the punishments doubled to serve for trying to run away, even if it was only Mark I was running from. But, through it all, I’m alive. Meant I still had a chance. A very, very slim one, at that, but a chance nonetheless. 

My eyelids began growing heavy and I found it rather difficult to stay focused on trying to stay awake. I was exhausted, to say the least, so I let out a shaky sigh, then slowly began drifting off to sleep.

\-----

I was in my room again. Not my cell, my bedroom. At home. I was sitting by my window with the cool, outside air flowing in gently through the window screen. I had three small potted cactus plants lined up side by side on the right of the windowsill, and one taller cactus plant on the left, all by itself. Mom’s car was in the driveway, which was strange, she’s usually not home by now. It’s usually much darker. 

My bedroom door then creaked open, and that’s where I focused my attention. My mother walked into the room, her cheeks stained with trails of saltwater tears.

“Jack?” she called, her voice breaking ever so slightly. I turned my body to face her, and a pang of distress tugged at my racing heart. I hated seeing her this way. What happened? 

“Mom?” I began. “Are you okay? What hap-”

“J-Jack?” She spoke, her tone tremulous, holding nothing but pain and worry. She sucked in a deep breath, and her eyes squeezed shut. Her hand shot to her chest as she collapsed onto the carpet below her.

“M-Mom?” She couldn’t hear me. Why couldn’t she hear me? “Mom!” I shouted, desperately wanting to be heard. She then lifted her hands to her face, but her tears seeped through her fingers.

“Oh, Jack!” She sobbed. “W-Why? Why did you have to be t-t-taken from us?! What did you do to deserve this?” My heart shattered as I put two and two together.

“It’s the day I was kidnapped.” I thought aloud, just barely above a whisper. Her voice hushed as she rocked back and forth. I wanted to rush to her side -- to comfort her, and end her pain. But, I just stood there, watching, not doing anything… I was useless. I couldn’t do anything. And I despised the feeling… 

A very bright light then flooded into the room, and I raised my arms to shield my eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice the sudden change. She then opened her arms and lunged forward.

“Help me!!!” she screamed. She had me by the shoulders and was shaking me back and forth like I was a rag doll. She growled the last word, then pushed me back.

\-----

I jerked awake when I heard an ear piercing scream coming from right beside me. I wasn’t alone. A woman accompanied me, but she was no longer in the sane state. She kept screaming, and running her hands frantically through her hair, tugging at its roots.

“Make it stop!!” she shouted again.

“That’s the wrong cell! He’s gonna get killed in there!” I heard Mark shout from the opposite side of the door. It suddenly opened again, and there he was. “Jack, come on! Get outta there!” I was terrified. So terrified, in fact, that I was paralyzed. I wasn’t even sure if I was breathing. My chest started to ache, so I assumed I wasn’t. 

“Jack!!” he shouted again, snapping me back to reality. Suddenly, the woman stopped. Her hair was lightly colored, but a few bald spots littered her scalp from where she had ripped tuft after tuft out, presumably to help rid the pain. Her eyes and lips twitched, and that’s when I realized that I needed to leave before she tore me to shreds. 

She screamed another ear-piercing scream, and I scrambled to the door, thankfully getting out of her way before she bolted out of the cell, and back into the hallway. Mark threw his arm over my chest and stood in front of me as if I were a child who needed to be protected at all costs. She ran a few steps into the hallway, then fell to the floor. She didn’t move, didn’t twitch, nothing. She stayed completely still. Mark then turned to face me.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked, but I couldn’t respond. My eyes were tightly fixed on the woman lying in a motionless heap on the floor. Aside from being absolutely nuts, she was beautiful. And I recognized her, too.   
Signe Hansen. She was my neighbor. I always “secretly” crushed on her and caught myself staring while she wasn’t looking (or at least when I thought she wasn’t looking) only to turn away when she’d catch my gaze in her own, flushing bright red from embarrassment. I had known her for years. We went to school together in middle school and our freshman year, but then she was kidnapped. I guess this is where she’s been all these years…

“Jack!” Mark shouted, snapping his fingers in front of my face, dragging me from my thoughts. “Are you hurt? Did she get to you?” 

“No!” I hissed, backing away from him. “I’m fine.” It was only then that I noticed the few stray tears sliding further and further down my cheeks. I quickly brushed them away and he sighed, then turned around, stepping towards her motionless body. He crouched down beside her to check for her pulse. I silently begged for him to find one, even though I knew the chances were slim. He sighed yet again, and stood up, pulling his walkie-talkie out from his pocket. He adjusted the knob, held down the button on the side, then spoke.

“Felix?”

“What?” he replied, a hint of annoyance hanging in his tone.

“It’s Mark. I’m in D. We’ve got another one down.” He waited in silence for Felix’s response.

“What?” he asked, clearly very annoyed at this point. 

“We have another one down in D-Hall, Sir.” he repeated.

“Goddammit!” He shouted, but not through the walkie-talkie. His voice echoed throughout the walls of the prison. He was furious. A few moments later, he spoke into the walkie-talkie again.  
“How long?” Mark turned to Amy for her answer.

“About two hours.” she stated weakly, and Mark nodded.

“Two hours, Sir,” I glanced back down at Signe as Mark and Felix continued conversing. My eyes fell on her wrist, which was facing upwards by her side. Instead of just having an “F” burned into her skin, she had a “W”, an “F”, and an “A”. 

Wade, Felix, and Amy? I wondered. If she had three different brands, did that mean she had three different serums? Or the same serum injected three different times? I looked closer at the letters. The “A” seemed to have been the newest one. A for Amy. Amy had her last.

My mind raced back to earlier that day when Felix had branded me. First, he injected me with the serum. I was one of the lucky few who survived the injection. After the serum started kicking in, he branded me. 

Did Amy do the same thing? Inject her first, then brand her? But, if she survived the first two, why didn’t she survive this one? Was it a different serum? 

I inched a tiny bit closer, but Mark put his hand on my shoulder, and shook his head, pushing me back slightly.

“Don’t touch her. I’m on my way.” Felix groaned.

 

About five minutes later, Felix was standing just inches away from Amy with his hands rested angrily upon his hips.

“You were with her all day, correct?” he asked, and she nodded to confirm.

“Yes, Sir, I was.”

“And? What the hell happened?” he asked, his voice booming. “What happened when you gave her your serum?” 

So, I was right. Wait.. why didn’t Wade give me a second serum, then? Did he just forget, or was it not necessary? Or was it laced in with the chip?

“She got sick a few times, and held her head between her hands, but the symptoms stopped after the second minute. I assumed she was fine, Sir, and she was until she got to her cell.” My cell. I mentally corrected.  
“Why didn’t you get me as soon as she started showing the symptoms?” he questioned, his voice bouncing off the walls. She gulped.

“You were busy, Sir. You told me not to interrupt you with the new recruit.” 

“Why didn’t you go to Wade, then?” he hissed.

“Sir, she was fine.” A moment later, Amy was sent collapsing to the ground, a faint buzzing filling the air. He was shocking her. 

“Past fucking tense, Amy!!” he screamed. “She was fine! You gave her the serum, she got sick! If you had gone to Wade, or Mark, or literally anyone else, she would still. Be. Alive!” He drove his fist into the wall beside him as he steamed. After regaining her composure, she sat up, closing her eyes as she took in a deep, unsteady breath, but she didn’t turn away. Her eyes were closed for only a few seconds before she opened them again.

“My mistake, Sir. I’m sorry.” Her voice shook as she spoke. Felix took the hand he just punched the wall with, and ran it down his face, resting it over his mouth. He said nothing, just tapped his foot in annoyance.

“We got most of the important information outta her, that’s all that matters,” he said behind clenched teeth. His gaze dropped back to Signe, and he sighed. “Mark, take her away. Put her out back, I’ll get to her later.” He barked, and Mark silently went around doing what he had been instructed to do. Felix took a sharp turn on his heel, disappearing around the corner, and Amy sighed for a moment before struggling to stand, then, she too, left, leaving me in the corridor. Alone.


	4. Wrong Place, Wrong Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don't be so quick to believe what you're told; lies spread quicker than the truth.”  
> The school goes into lock-down as a pressing threat enters the campus. Jack, still sauntering through the hallways, hears the menacing din of a firearm and finds himself in a vital rush. Though he knows the procedure; move swiftly, find a class that is open, get inside, and stay as far away from the windows and doors as possible, little did he know that these next five minutes would change his life forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (My works) Hope you enjoy! I'll try to upload every Friday, but if something comes up, I'll let you know! Also, I'm new to this site, so I don't understand how the indentations work, how to load different fonts, or how to load typographical emphasis, but I'm learning, so please, bear with me.  
> You can also find me on Tumblr (x-x-owrooh-septiplier-x-x), Quotev (itsjustmeowrooh), and Wattpad (itsjustmeowrooh).  
> I'm a work in progress, feel free to leave constructional criticism, but please don't be rude.

At least a thousand thoughts began swimming throughout my mind, all loosely following the same basic idea -- finding an escape. I couldn’t help the smile that crossed over my face at the thought of finally getting out.

Alright, awesome, an escape. And if he comes back? Inner me argued. I stopped dead in my tracks, realizing the actual possibility I had at leaving this hellhole. What if he realizes the mistake that Amy made and he comes back to find my cell empty? Or runs into me as I’m trying to escape? I’ll be dead before I even get the chance to realize what hit me.

But, this may be your only chance at escaping. Take it while you have it! You may never get this lucky again! I ran my shaky hands through my hair and balled them into fists as I thought.

After what felt like ages of a debate, I finally turned back to my cell with a sigh, realizing that my decision was stupid but that I’d find a way to make it work. I pushed my cell door closed, that way if Felix did come back, he’d see a closed door and wouldn’t think twice to check. Hopefully, at least. I turned back to face the long, empty corridor, sighing deeply as I contemplated my next step. Erh, few steps, to be literal.

A minuscule mouse trapped in a house filled to the brim with cats, all ready to pounce. How hard could it be? I decided to ignore the fight my mind was causing with itself and carried on. As I made my way down the hall, I felt my legs beginning to give out. It was like I would collapse onto the ground at the slightest incorrect step, giving away my position to the other prisoners, starting an uproar, leaving me no other choice but to turn around and head back to my own little cell to slowly but surely lose my mind. All I’d be missing are padded walls and a straight-jacket.

Oh, but you closed your cell, remember? Your door would be locked and you wouldn’t be able to get back inside. You’d be beaten lifeless, left to rot on the floor in a pool of your own blood. I brushed away the uncomforting thought and pushed on, stepping out from the hallway only to find myself even more doomed than when I had started.

At least a dozen other hallways stretched alongside each other both in front and behind me. Looking back from where I just came, there were twelve doors, six to each side. Assuming that all the halls were the same and considering the fact that they were all lettered A through N, that’s fourteen halls with twelve prisoners down each. Not counting myself and the two that had already passed away, that’s one hundred sixty-five unlucky persons who all happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Damn. Guilt came over me like a crashing wave.

I’ve been here for, what, barely two weeks now? Who knows how long these people have been here. They’ve probably suffered much worse fates than I. But it’s not like I can do anything about them, anyway. I don’t have the keys to any of these cells.

There’s nothing you can do to help them. Just keep going. Pushing all guilt aside, I carried on, heading towards N-Hall in hopes to get my bearings. I’d passed down all these halls a few times today, but Felix’s grip was always too tight, giving me absolutely no chance to look around to absorb my surroundings. But still, I wish I had at least tried a little harder to pay attention.

I finally came across a split in the halls that looked familiar. If I continued straight, it’d lead me right to the Rink. Right to Wade. I shuddered at the thought of that man, then turned to the right, only to be greeted by a door with the words “Exam Room” slapped on the front of it in big, white lettering, so I figured that was a nod to negative. But to the left was just a dead end.

“Crap,” I sighed, turning around and going back the way I had come. “This place is like a damn maze.” I was only halfway down the hall when the all too familiar shriek of agony filled my ears, only to be followed by a gunshot moments later, silencing the stranger’s distraught self.

My heart rate sped up by at least twice its original rate and breathing became almost impossible. In an instant, I was on the floor and the memories of that god awful day came flooding back into my mind.

 

It was fourth period and I was supposed to be taking a test in Biology, but it completely slipped my mind and I had forgotten to study for it. So, as soon as I walked into the classroom, I dumped my bag by my seat, told Mr. Johansen that I was going to the restroom, then ducked out of the room without even hearing his okay. I dug my phone out of my pocket and sent Mark a quick text asking if he could meet me there to help me out a bit. Thankfully, he had just had Mr. Johansen third period, and Mark usually seemed to know what he was doing, so I trusted the guy.

I leaned against the counter, running my hands in circles along my chest -- a nervous habit that I had adapted -- and finally decided that I needed something else to do. I checked my phone one last time to see if Mark had responded and sighed after realizing he hadn’t, then turned to the sink to flick it on and wash my hands.

After cleaning my hands, I ran my fingers through my hair, almost regretting the fact that I didn’t brush it at all this morning but also not totally despising the look, all things considered. It may have looked like I slept in a dumpster all night, but hey, at least I didn’t smell like I had.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling me from my fashion crisis and I hurried to dry my hands on my jeans. Silently praying that it wasn’t just another unknown number texting me absolutely nothing but gibberish, I fished my phone out from my pocket but wasn’t given the chance to read it. A gunshot firing from the hallway made my heart stop in my chest and my stomach turn somersaults. My phone buzzed again. Looking down, I noticed that the first message was, in fact, from Mark. He had simply said, “okay.” The other message, however, was from this unknown number who I now can only assume belonged to this gun-wielding stranger in the walls of the school simply by the choice of words alone.

‘Shouldn’t you be in class, Jackieboy? :)’ The message read. My stomach did another flip and my heart jumped up into my throat.

I’m gonna be sick. I started heading towards one of the stalls when I realized that this person, whoever they were, probably knew where I was hiding and would come in search for me. I turned back to the door and reached for the lock… that was apparently non-existent.

“Fuck!” I cursed, probably a little louder then I should have, then made my way back to the stall, stepping inside and shutting the door, locking it shut. It was a start.

The bathroom door then creaked open but I barely heard it due to the sound of my pounding heart. It was silent for a few moments until a voice spoke up.

“Jack?” It was Mark. I let out a sigh of little relief and felt myself deflate just a tad. “You still in here?”

“Y-Yea, Mark, I’m still here,” I replied, my voice breaking. I heard him sigh as well as I unlocked the stall and stepped out.

“Are you okay?” he questioned, stepping forward and examining me. A painfully sarcastic titter pushed past my lips.

“Absolutely fuckin’ terrified. Is Officer Tate’s office open?” I asked, and he shook his head in response.

“He left not too long ago. But Mr. Young’s class is open. If, uh… if we go now, we can make it.” He stuttered, pushing me towards the door. “But we have to hurry, Jack, yea?”

“No, screw that! I’m not goin’ out there!” I exclaimed, stepping away from his arms and further into the bathroom. “They’re lookin’ for me, Mark! I’m not-”

“Jack, it’ll be fine. His class is right down the hall, we’ll make it, but the longer we sit in here and argue, the less of a chance we have at getting to his class. It’ll be shut by the time we finally get out.” He explained, to which I hesitantly agreed with a nod.

My steps were heavy as I made my way into the hall, and I glanced to my right to find Mr. Young’s door open, just like Mark had said. He noticed us in the hall before shutting his door and he motioned for us to hurry the hell up. Another gunshot rang out, tempting me to move faster and I was just about to step into the class when I felt an arm wrap around my neck and a gun press to my temple.

“Don’t. Move.” Mark’s voice, shattered and quivering, came like a whisper into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. My hands instinctively shot up to pry his arms away, but I was far too weak and although his hands trembled against me, his hold was firm.

“Mark? C’mon, kiddo, what’re you doing?” Mr. Young asked, stepping forward with his arms outstretched, but Mark responded by taking a step back, pulling me along with him. “Easy, son, just… just settle down. Hand me your gun and let Jack go. Nobody has to be hurt here, alright?” A few of the students were just beginning to notice the situation at hand and stared on with looks of horror glued to their faces while the others remained completely and totally oblivious. Mark’s grip around my neck then tightened ever so slightly and I could hear the rattling of the gun as his hand shook.

“Y-Yea, that’s not gonna happen.” I could hear the brokenness hanging like a thick cloud in Mark’s voice.

“Mark, what’re ya doin’?” I gulped, still trying to escape his grasp but it was no use.

“Shut up, just shut up!” He harshly whispered. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling hot tears prickling in the corners. “J-Just go back into your class, Mr. Young. Please. I have to do this.”

“No, you don’t, we can find you help.”

“You don’t get it!!” He shouted, another gunshot firing as those last few words rolled off his tongue and into the air. I tensed, waiting for the pain, but found myself puzzled when I felt nothing. I finally regained the strength to open my eyes, but I wish I hadn’t. Lying in a motionless heap on the ground was Mr. Young, blood pooling underneath him. The students inside screamed and scrambled to get out of their seats, rushing to the back of the class.

“What the hell?” Mark spoke, voice trembling, obviously just as dumbfounded as I. The man who took the teacher’s life just moments ago kicked his lifeless body away from the door, then slammed it shut.

“Just get a move on.” He barked, pulling a potato sack from his back pocket and stepping towards me. His bare palm clasped over my mouth as he leaned in close, the smell of mint intertwined in his breath and a look of insanity stitched in his eyes. “Hi there, Jackieboy.” He smiled. I pulled away from his grasp and he laughed lightly, shaking his head.

“There’s no reason to struggle, Baby. No one’s here to help you.” He grinned devilishly, gave the sack a quick shake, then pulled it down over my head, cuffing my hands in front of me soon thereafter.

“Jesus Christ, Mark, what’ve ya gotten us into?” I hissed as the man pulled me along by the chain of the cuffs. Another gunshot rang out, followed by the clink of glass shards on linoleum.

“I’m sorry, Jack… I’m sorry.” Mark whispered, but I paid no attention to his words. I tried ripping my hands free from the stranger’s grasp, but to no avail. I felt a hand clasp down on my shoulder and I knew in an instant that it was Mark. That bastard.

Then, very faintly, I heard Miss Kyler’s voice from the office shouting into a phone, begging for the police, only to be shot down moments later, her voice dying down into nothing but silence.

“Mark, pick it up!” He ordered and he obeyed, pushing me along. I stumbled over the broken shards of glass and felt one knife into the bottom of my shoe, sending a twitching pain up my leg, only getting worse as we continued on.

Over the sound of my beating heart and heavy breathing, I heard a car engine start and felt a tear roll down my cheek.

“No,” I muttered, but my voice went unheard over the sea of sirens wailing closer and closer to the school, but not nearly close enough to catch us before we were gone. “No!”

“Shut him up and get him in the fucking car!” I turned away from Mark’s arms, but it wasn’t long before I was trapped again, being pushed back into the vehicle.

“Help!” I cried, voice breaking terribly and tears streaming down my cheeks. The potato sack was then ripped off my head and a rag was placed over my mouth. Darkness engulfed my vision in an instant.

 

A strong hand tightly gripped my wrist and yanked me up onto my feet, another hand shooting up to cover my mouth.

“What the hell are you doing out?” Mark growled in a low voice. Of course, My thoughts began. How foolish of me to think I’d be able to escape that easily.

“Well, what does it look like?” I replied.

“It looks like you’re being an idiot.” He bit back sarcastically, pulling me down the all too familiar hall. “You’re lucky I found you instead of Felix.”

We got back to the cell I so wholeheartedly despised and he pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, jamming one into the keyhole and ushering me inside. I stumbled in with a huff and immediately shot a glare over my shoulder in his direction.

He was about to shut the door when he paused, eyes filled with sorrow and regret. No, scratch that. It wasn’t regret, it was disappointment. But who is he disappointed in, himself or me? He then sighed.

“Jack, I’m sorry.” I scoffed at this, throwing myself against the corner wall and sliding down to the ground. “I didn’t want to help him, but he has my family, and if I don’t cooperate, they die. I can’t…” He paused, sucking in a sharp breath of air.

“I can’t have that happen.” A tear rolled down the far side of my cheek and I showed no urgency to brush it away. The room was silent for a long while before he finally spoke up once more. “You’re my best friend, Jack, and I love you like a brother, but I can’t put you first.” With those last words echoing in the back of my mind, he stepped back into the hallway, pulling the door shut until it clicked into place. As if I had just swallowed a lit match whole, a fire began to burn in the pit of my stomach, anger bubbling inside of me like boiling water in a kettle. A growl rumbled in my throat as I rose to my feet, pounding my fists against the cold, hard metal of the door.

“I hate you!!!” My throat burned as my rage escaped me, but the words stung more than the shout.


	5. DISCLAIMER

Hey guys! I apologize, I know it's late and I know I should have already posted by now, but it's been an incredibly hectic week, I haven't been home much at all and I still don't have chapter 5 finished yet. I'm probably gonna need a few more days, maybe an extra week, I'm not 100% sure. Only time will tell. Anyway, I apologize again for the delay! I hope to have it up sometime soon, I should be at least a little more available than I have been these past few days. Thank you all so much for your patience.


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